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Jun 10

Before I Forget: Werewolf!Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader

My time has come

This is my longest single non-chapter fic sitting at almost 18k words. This took me two weeks to write, so I really hope you all enjoy :)

When I tried to open this in my drafts, it made my entire app lag on my phone, so please use caution. I recommend reading this on Ao3 so you don't risk crashing your app or making your browser extremely slow.

Contains: Werewolf transformations, blood, gun violence, dead bodies, medical procedures, and quite a bit of angst.

The hum of the engines bled through the thick metal hull, it kept you from drifting too far into your thoughts as your concentration would break at every creak and groan and shudder of turbulence. You don’t think you’ve been in a ship this big before. Sure, you’ve been in plenty of carriers and helicopters and planes; But the hull you’re in now? It was like you were being transported through the air with a flying mansion. O’Brian doesn’t play around anymore, it seems, especially with his prized little team. It didn’t help that his best soldiers were surrounding you, all geared to the teeth with state-of-the-art bulletproof armor and technology-

And here you and Leon sat- still armed, but with just a lot less protecting you both from bullets and such extremes. You both sat shoulder to shoulder in the corner, both of you opting to not disturbed the famed Hound Wolf squadron from their pre-mission checklists- Especially Chris Redfield’s.

You watched him from where you sat in the corner as you idly cleaned the grooves of your Red Nine, staring at him out of the corner of your eye as he ran through each member with extreme precision, running through the entire plan multiple times for any mistakes that may have been miscommunicated so he could snuff them out now. He was a whole army stuffed into one man. You’ve seen him do some pretty honorable things, the stories you’ve heard toppled it all; But Chris wasn’t one to brag and boast. He’s the type of man to sit silently and follow orders as they’re given like a good soldier.

Interesting, considering that he did the exact opposite when he quit the air force a few decades ago.

He fiddled with his trusty Dragoon, polishing the assault rifle with military care and carefully loading the magazine and setting the safety. He had a cigarette in his mouth, unlit of course else he’d suffer the wrath of O’Brian and earn himself yet another lecture about his smoking habits, he rolled it between his teeth as he adjusted the rest of his gear for the hundredth time. Chris was a creature of habit, you’ve come to know that after two years of marriage on top of dating for almost five years. He had to constantly check his magazines to make sure they were full and weren’t jammed, he would mess with his gold-plated lighter in his pocket if he needed to fidget, he would always brush his teeth first then use the bathroom before going to bed. You could predict Chris down to the wire if you wanted to, but you understood where all of this was coming from.

If you’ve been in the industry as long as he has, you deal with a whole lot of bullshit and it can get predictable. Fast.

Sensing your gaze on him, his cobalt eyes carved through the thin air of the hull and focused directly onto your own. The cigarette rolled against his teeth before he plucked it from his lips and stashed it above his ear that wasn’t covered by his earpiece and approached you and Leon. His golden wedding band twinkled in the low lighting of the hull. Your fellow DSO member followed your gaze when your walking tank of a husband was suddenly before you both.

“How are you two holding up?” your husband questioned softly.

“I could do without the turbulence,” Leon chided playfully.

It wasn’t like he was just starting, Leon was already on one before the carrier left the tarmac with his puns and quips. He was worse than a sitcom dad at some points, and it really only seemed like you were the only other member in the DSO that could stand him. You found him pretty charming and funny, you both quickly grew close as partners to the point you both felt like siblings to each other. Imagine his surprise when he makes a joke about Chris in passing only for you to pipe up and tell him that you both were engaged. That shut the ex-cop up quickly, the look on his face was priceless.

‘You? And Redfield?’ He was utterly flabbergasted in passing. ‘Like- Hound Wolf Redfield?’

“Can’t help it,” Chris scoffed before turning his gaze to you. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ll live, big guy.” You nodded to the rest of his team with a smile on your face. “You just worry about keeping your little pack together.”

“I can’t be worried about my wife, can I?”

“You can worry about me when we’re back in the US so you can do my paperwork for me.”

That earned you a good chuckle from your husband.

You were honestly shocked that you were here. Imagine your surprise when Leon shows up at your office with debrief papers with a familiar logo stamped on the folders alongside your own. You two were being deployed with Hound Wolf to assist with something in Germany. Both of your bosses were intrigued after multiple accounts of cult-like activity along with scientists and biologists suddenly going missing on top of a lesser BSAA group going missing when it came time to investigate. You questioned your boss, worried that he may have forgotten that you were married to Captain Redfield and fearing receiving backlash should something go wrong. You’ve seen what happens when something goes wrong when married agents go on the same mission. To ruin Chris’ reputation would absolutely crush you. You were left with no words when your boss brushed off your concerns, actually happy to pair you with your husband’s squadron with Leon by your side, going on about how your combined skill sets alone were enough to easily handle the whole thing given the past events.

The whole situation made your skin crawl if you were being honest. It had Romania written all over it, memories of the horrors Chris retold to you when he returned with no Ethan Winters haunted you.

“You wanna do my paperwork for me too, Redfield?” Leon piped up.

“I’d rather go back to the air force,” Chris scoffed and turned back to his squadron.

“It was worth a try,” Leon muttered as he decided to busy himself with his lovely Matilda. You looked over at the GPS monitor hung on the wall, lazily watching the carrier’s icon grow closer and closer to your target destination. You were maybe a few dozen miles from the rendezvous if you had to guess. “You think it’s gonna be more like Romania or Spain?”

You exhaled; You didn’t want to admit the small pool of dread that started to grow in the pit of your stomach. You’d much rather it be one big misunderstanding and get the hell out of here, but you weren’t foolish enough to believe that could be a possibility. While you were a part of either mission, you had your own run ins with similar problems that came with their own scars.

“I’m hoping neither,” you said flatly. “I don’t know which one I’d rather deal with.”

As you all hurdled deeper into German airspace you gazed out of one of the windows to see the haunting sight of an expansive forest in dying sunlight. You were somewhere near the border between Germany and France, the Palatinate Forest sat below you obscuring your vision of the forest floor. Pines and oaks towered and twisted, they cast dark shadows that slowly creeped upwards as you neared the imposing Vosges Mountains. You’ve heard of all types of rumors and fairytales coming out of this place, none of which you hoped were true. Through the minute gaps of the foliage, you could barely spy decrepit buildings long forgotten to time, broken down over possibly centuries of abandonment and harsh weather. It’s haunting knowing that nature always finds a way to reclaim its land.

Descent happened a lot sooner than you’d thought, the sudden slowing woke you from your concentration, your eyes immediately going to Chris to follow his directions. It was made crystal clear to you and Leon: You follow Chris’ orders and nothing else.

You are to not deviate from his orders.

Chris had put the unlit cigarette back in his mouth and was rolling it along his teeth as he reached up and snagged at one of the pull bars running along the top of the hull. You peered between your husband and back out the window, your lips pressed into a tight line as the carrier slowly lowered into a small clearing in the middle of the woods. Trees were broken in half, branches and bushels of dry leaves scattered everywhere, hordes of footprints trampled the grass and pale dirt around the landing area. It looked like an actual army blew shit up and raided the forest.

Landing had the entire carrier shaking and rocking as the engines refused to cut. It was a mission where your pilot from the BSAA wouldn’t wait around for you all, you all had to go out and come back at around 0700 with whatever you could get your hands on. For the BSAA, it was more so a mission of finding their missing people and packing up what may have been left of the camp- Your shared mission with Leon was figuring out what happened to the team.

The door in the back slowly opened, a chill rushing into the warm interior as a wave of fresh air breathed new life into your noses. Without a word, you all stood up geared to the teeth and filed out one by one with Hound Wolf going first. The air was fine and warm with a slight breeze that made the trees sway. If you had to guess, you all maybe had just under two more hours of sunlight before nightfall; It wouldn’t be as though you had no light, tonight was supposed to be a full moon and you all were equipped with flashlights in your gear.

You all followed Chris, eyes watching his every move as you filed out of the carrier and to the edge of the clearing. The footprints were frazzled, winding, stepping over each other like there was a panic. One thing was clear: They came back the way they went in.

There were just a lot less footprints coming this way.

The pilot didn’t waste time, closing up the ramp door and beginning takeoff. He would fly to one of the nearby BSAA Europe bases and wait for either 0700 or for Chris’ call, but if none of you are back after idling to 1200, he’s getting out of there. You had about sixteen hours to get this all sorted out and gather as much information as you can to get back or you’d all be left behind in the depths of the German forests-

-With creatures of the unknown possibly surrounding you.

Chris looked back at you all, his cigarette now lit and idly curling up in a thin cloud, and nodded towards the woods as he started walking while you all followed with weapons drawn. Your eyes stayed on the trees, spying between thick trunks and twisting branches, looking for any type of movement. It was actually pretty unnerving that you didn’t see much, no deer or small rodents, there were barely any birds making any noise. It was just lines of trees and the occasional rock jutting out of the ground. The fauna must’ve all gotten scared by the carrier. At least, you hoped.

As you and Leon followed closely behind Hound Wolf, you noticed something odd about the footprints. Amongst the bootprints stamped deep in the dirt, there were some odd looking ones in the mix. Deep grooves carved into the grassier parts, what looked like claw marks pulled up the packed earth, and there were spots of dried blood that have long grown dark and hard splattered in between. After maybe a few more minutes of walking in silence, you all came to an even bigger mess: A ruined campsite.

A ruined BSAA campsite.

It was built up hastily in another small clearing, a seven foot chainlink fence haphazardly built close to the treeline. The fence had mostly been torn down or had fallen, most of the poles having been ripped out of the ground. Four tents had been established in the corners, only one of which was still standing. The three that were beaten into the ground covered, destroyed makeshift furniture and files unreadable from being torn or soaked to the point the white paper was a dark gray. The flood lights that had been put up near each split in the fence were all knocked over and had long gone dead. The metal was bent and banged up, the lightbulbs smashed, the cables connecting them to the gas-powered generators all cut and slashed and bit into by animals if you had to guess. The generators weren’t in any better condition; Long empty and beaten up. As you slowly circled the generators, you noticed that the backside that had all of the cable inputs looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and tried to rip the whole panel off. There were deep dents in the metal like someone’s giant fist tried to rip it off. You were about to join Umber Eyes and Chris with inspecting the smaller scale BSAA cargo box when you heard someone pipe up.

“Found someone,” Tundra called out.

You all dropped what you were looking at and rushed to the tent that still stood. You were shocked the thing was still standing, the blue tent had lost its color and was a swampy greyish green with the logo mostly worn off. One of the poles that pitched the tent had bent in on itself and made it lean more to one side. The flaps were torn off of the tent and blew lazily in the breeze from the few stitches that remained. Inside wasn’t any better: Tipped over filing cabinets, a table towards the bent side with a radio and a laptop that wasn’t operating, another table in the middle had been upturned. On the opposite wall of the tent stood a few boards full of papers pinned to the wood, all of the pins were wrapped in a web of different color thread. There were some pictures, but you couldn’t really make out much, they were all too dark and the images were too blurry, but if you had to guess you would’ve assumed it was something big and nasty. Emily stood on the other side, holding up the other flaps of the tent as she looked at someone at her feet.

You all approached, the smell of a decaying corpse suddenly hitting you. A BSAA soldier was lying on his stomach beneath the tent’s canvas material, his body in full rigor mortis as he laid in a puddle of dried blood. Chris slowly approached the corpse and crouched down, slowly turning the body around so he would lay on his back. You winced when you saw the wound on his front side; His chest had been torn into and it looked as though his ribcage was broken open. His heart was missing but his lungs and other organs were still there, albeit they were rotting away. Chris slipped the dogtags off of his neck and stood back up, pocketing the necklace as he found himself lost in thought. You knew what he was thinking.

This wasn’t just some weird disappearance case.

Something sinister happened here.

“See if that radio has a hand crank and if it works,” Chris nodded to the table.

Lobo was the closest, the man quickly turning his back to you all and quickly inspected the thing as you and Leon popped back out of the tent. The setting sun bled through the trees from the west, it made the footprints cast shadows in the hollow marks in the dirt when something caught your eye. There were a lot of prints going out east and less coming back through camp- But there were only one set of outgoing prints heading west. You bumped Leon with your elbow and nodded to the opening in the fence, your partner immediately picking up on what you were looking at just as John reported back that the radio wasn’t functioning.

“Chris,” you called out with your back still to Hound Wolf. You felt your husband’s presence behind you quickly, his warm cloaking your backside, his hand finding your shoulder and giving you a gentle squeeze. “Look,” you nodded towards the west.

His eyes zeroed in on exactly what you and Leon found. He took a second to check his watch before looking back between the two ends of camp. You didn’t have much longer until the sun set, the sky was already starting to bleed purples and pinks westward as the east grew darker and darker by the second. You were burning precious daylight.

“Umber Eyes,” it was Chris’ turn to call attention. His second-in-command appeared right behind Chris patiently awaiting orders from his captain. “You five head east and find out what made them backtrack, radio in if you find anything. If you find any more bodies, I want their tags.” His loyal squadron followed his orders to the word, about-facing and following directly behind Rolando as they took off eastward. Chris turned back to you once their tan camouflage jackets disappeared into the dark wilderness, nodding his head westward. “Let’s go, we’re burning daylight.”

Chris leads the charge, followed directly by you with Leon in the rear. Your eyes were glued to the footprints in the dirt while Chris kept looking forward and Leon kept looking over his shoulder. You all could feel it: Someone or something was watching you. You weren’t stupid, you’ve all been in this position similar to this before; Chris with Romania, Leon with Spain and you with your own little troubling mission in the Canadian wilderness a few years back. That damn mission forced you to delay your wedding thanks to a nasty wound you got in your lower back. It was all the same thing, too- Cults and infections. That’s all it seems to be nowadays.

The second the light started to disappear, all three of your flashlights turned on. In a place like this there was no such thing as too much light, the full moon that started to poke out above the forest’s canopy also helped you out a bit. As you trekked deeper into the maze of pine and oak you spotted a lot of odd marks and a whole lot more dead animals long rotted to the point the bones were showing through the decayed flesh. The smells only grew worse as you ventured forth, you were wishing you were wearing your usual respirator mask right about now, kicking yourself for forgoing it along with your bigger med-pack. The one you were carrying held vital essentials along with a tourniquet set, a few shots of adrenaline and various steroids, and a flare gun with two charges. To your credit, you didn’t think Chris would split the whole team apart.

It wasn’t much longer before Chris halted in his tracks, you and Leon nearly colliding like crashing train cars from how fast he stopped on a dime. You poked your head out from behind your husband to see another BSAA corpse before you three. They were splayed out and mostly rotten but their cause of death was most likely the same as the other poor soul you had found earlier: Rib cage broken open and heart ripped out of their body. As Chris slowly approached the body to retrieve the tags he stopped again, his whole body going rigid.

“What’s wrong?” Leon called out.

“Some of these tracks are fresh,” Chris piped up before looking back at you two, “and they’re not human.”

You both hurried to where Chris stood and saw exactly what he was talking about. Amongst the set of human bootprints you had been following for the past twenty minutes laid two sets of what looks like animal tracks. They were oddly shaped, long yet they left marks that suggested they had claws? They weren’t like any animal print you’ve seen before, that’s for sure, but seeing this proved that whatever was lurking around was definitely a bioweapon at the very least. You couldn’t help but wonder what could’ve made them, though. They looked as though you mixed a human’s bare foot with an animal’s.

“What do you think made them?” Leon crouched down to inspect them. “One weird looking bear or something?”

“There’s no bears in Germany,” Chris grunted as he plucked the tags from the soldier.

“A pack of wolves?”

“Have you ever seen a pack of wolves break open a person’s ribcage and eat only their heart?” you asked as you circled around the back of the soldier.

There were no other marks on him from what you could see. It was the weirdest thing. Normally, bioweapons that you’ve seen tear the whole body apart and eat all over. Why just the heart?

“Guess not,” Leon sighed as he turned around to look back at the woods.

As you all inspected your surroundings, a sudden branch snapping somewhere off to your right had you all standing at attention and aiming down your guns in the general direction. It became so silent you could hear a pin drop, each of your eyes were wide, each of your bodies were as still as the trees. No other noises came from the general direction of the branch and it took you all a minute to unwind from your positions. Just as you were about to relax you saw a look of utter panic spread across Chris and Leon’s faces at something behind you. Chris suddenly lunged forward and snagged a hold of your shoulders while Leon fired three rounds simultaneously. You and Chris nearly tumbled to the dirt, your boots catching on a root as you fell against a tree. Turning to look at what the fuck was happening, you paled at the sight of a monster reeling away from the gunfire.

It was big and ugly and hairier than Barry Burton. Taller than any of you by a few heads, it shielded its eyes from the bright lights shining in its eyes as it opened its gaping maw full of razor-sharp fangs. It looked like something out of a goddamn horror movie, and when it moved its hands away from its hideous face you shuddered at the sight of its wolf-like head.

A werewolf.

A fucking werewolf.

You’ve dealt with cerberus, hunters, lickers, and countless zombified humans and other animals- But a fucking werewolf? That was way out of your league.

Chris stood in front of you and fired over a dozen rounds into the beast before he shoved you both out of the way. This time you actually tumbled to the forest floor as Chris scrambled to yank you up, hauling you up by your bicep and barking at you to keep moving as Leon fired more rounds into the beast while it backed away. It yowled and screamed, snapping its wet jaws and sending its rancid saliva everywhere. You took aim yourself and fired five rounds, each one lodging in the werewolf’s back with the last one passing clean through the side of its shoulder. It cried out and reared around to bare its fangs at you and Chris as you both backed away, Leon circling its other side and quickly joining you.

Just as you three were about to start shooting, you all barely heard the sound of another branch getting stepped on. You barely dodged in time, all three of you crouching just fast enough to avoid another werewolf lunging out from the darkness and completely missing, the beast snagging onto a tree and immediately turning around to attack.

You all ran with the wolves snapping at your heels. You clawed wildly at the flora before you, cutting through woods and praying an upturned root or low-hanging branch was waiting somewhere to help snuff you out. You followed close behind Chris with Leon right behind you just like before when out of nowhere Leon shoved you to the side, the force of it taking Chris down with you as you both rolled off to the right.

The uninjured werewolf had tried to lunge again, missing one more time and scrabbling against the floor and cut Leon off from helping you two up. The injured monster set its sights on your partner, chasing him off and backing him away from you both as you found your footing.

“Leon!” you called.

Chris grabbed you by your bicep again and tore you away from where you stood, urging you to keep running as Leon did the same in the other direction.

“He’ll find us. Go!” Chris barked.

He knotted a hand into the back of your jacket to keep you upright in case you tripped, the two of you barreling through the darkness until you broke out into a small clearing. Chris let go of you and turned on his heel, unloading the rest of his magazine just as the thing launched itself towards you both again. Each bullet tore through the monster’s chest and arms and stomach, the beast yowling as it missed again and tore into the earth as it landed. As Chris reloaded, you emptied your own magazine while backing away. It swiped wildly at the air, taking two steps forward for every step both of you took back. The second it got too close to Chris, he reared the back end of his Dragoon up and smacked it in the muzzle, a sickening crack erupted as it broke the beast’s nose and knocked a few small fangs loose. The way it cried out and clawed at its face as blood poured from between its fingers was utterly inhumane and horrifying. It recovered faster than either of you could process, the monster slashing out and splitting you both apart with a wide swipe that knocked Chris down before he could dodge it. Your husband skid against the dirt, barely keeping hold of his assault rifle as he scrambled to his feet just as the werewolf started to advance towards you.

You finished reloading your Red Nine just as it crowded you, getting close enough for you to catch a whiff of its rancid breath smacking you in the face. You were only able to fire two more shots before it launched itself at you again. You weren’t fast enough this time, the beast snagging you by your arm and hauling you up until your back and head smacked into an oak tree with a horrible force, your gun falling to the forest floor. You openly cried out, your skull throbbing from the impact. Its other hand came up to snatch at your neck, keeping you still as you tried to thrash and kick and fight back, choking you as it opened its maw and its eyes glowed brighter. You didn’t have the time to process almost having your throat out when Chris suddenly tackled the werewolf.

You landed with another shout, your back injury from years ago flared horribly, pain scattering up your spine and down your legs. You scrambled for your gun, clutching the handle as you raised it back at the monster getting its ass beat as Chris wailed on it with his gun’s stock and his own fists. You fired round after round until your gun clicked pathetically. You scrambled for your hip pouches for ammo, reloading your gun as quickly as you could as Chris and the werewolf fought. Chris couldn’t waste time pulling back to fire, he was way too close and the beast was way too pissed to allow that to happen. Through the pain, you raised your trembling arms and kept firing. Barely half of the shots you fired connected with its back and side, the rest embedded themselves in the old gnarled trees and the dark earth. As you reloaded, the beast finally struck its target.

It slashed its paw and knocked Chris’ Dragoon out of his hand, the safety strap was cut by its wicked claws and the rifle went flying somewhere in the dark. It all happened in slow motion. Before Chris could reach for his Samurai Edge, the monster lashed out again, cleaving its claws upward and slashing into Chris’ left shoulder. Your husband cried out in pain as the claws cut right through his thick bullet-proof vest. He tried to shove the beast back, twisting away from it to retreat only for the beast to snag ahold of his thigh and tear into it too before it quickly overpowered your husband and pinned him to the ground.

You raised your reloaded gun and kept shooting, legs unable to move as the pain kept surging through you. Your bullets didn’t do anything, it just angered the beast until it suddenly bit down on Chris’ left hip, tearing a good chunk out of him.

You fired your last bullet, the chamber clicking loudly as the bullet traveled through the air and shot right into the beast’s skull. The werewolf dropped dead, collapsing over Chris who was writhing on the floor, clutching his bleeding wounds as he groaned and spat the blood from his mouth. You sat there for a minute, utterly shocked that the monster finally died and that it took all of your ammo to take it down with Chris wailing on it.

Chris.

Your heart jumpstarted, your legs kicked out from under you as you scrambled to stand. You raced for your husband who was trying to push the werewolf’s corpse off of him. You snatched at the thick and wiry fur coat it wore and helped him pull, managing to roll it over so you could examine him. He winced when your light shined right in his eyes, but you were mortified. His clothing and his bullet-proof vest was torn apart and soaked through with blood and sweat. Through the rips you could see all of the claw marks along with a nasty looking bitemark that had torn out a chunk of him at his hip. You scrambled for your medpack that you kept attached to the back of your belt, snatching it off and immediately opening it up to grab the med injector inside. With trembling hands you loaded one of the vials and parted his clothes, opting to inject it right over the bitemark.

“(Y-Y/n),” Chris wheezed as he clawed at the earth.

He was completely shell-shocked by this point. His body was flooding with endorphins, his hands were trembling, his eyes were wide and panicked as blood trickled from his mouth and chin.

“You’re gonna be okay,” you whimpered as you braced the med injector. “Chris, you’re gonna be okay.” You released it with a pull of the trigger, the vial completely emptying with a deep stab of the automatic needle. Chris bellowed out a loud shout, eyes squeezing shut as one of his hands came up to grab at your thigh for support. You shushed him softly, digging around the pack for a can of the first aid spray. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you kept repeating. “This is gonna hurt too.”

The second you started to spray the can, Chris’ body seized. He knew he shouldn’t be yelling and crying in pain, but you knew he couldn’t help it. The second the spray touched his wounds the cuts became covered with a white foamy substance to act like a liquid bandage. It wouldn’t do much with the extent of his injuries; You had to stitch him up but you couldn’t do it here. You layered another spray over before having to put it away, especially if someone else needed-

Leon!

You cursed to yourself and snatched your communicator radio from your belt and tried tuning to Leon’s frequency. Your fingers trembled on the dial as it crackled to life. The second you got a green light - albeit blinking and not stable- you felt Chris reach out and grab at one of your hands for support.

“Leon? Leon, do you hear me?” you called out. The radio in your hand crackled with static, a dead buzz of a line not working. “Leon, are you there? Hello?”

The radio didn’t call back to you.

You cursed under your breath and focused back on your husband. Chris was looking up at you with dazed eyes, his cobalt hues seemed dimmer now as he panted and squeezed your fingers. He was still with you, he was still alive.

“My radio,” he got out in between pants.

Your free hand sprang to his own belt, snatching his own radio from its cradle next to his own hip pouch. You’ve never operated a BSAA radio, but it honestly just looked like an older army walkie. You tuned the dial, baiting your breath and the thing crackled with life as you rested it in your lap to steady it. The second the older screen lit up with a single bar you let out the air you had been holding in your lungs.

“Hello? Is someone there?” you called out. The radio crackled just like yours had done, but there was something else hidden behind the static. You swore you could hear something amongst the crackling. “Hello? It’s (Y/n)- I need help! Captain Redfield is down.”

You were starting to sob at this point, tears streaking down your cheeks as you gripped Chris’ hand harder. You tried to keep your composure, you were gulping down air but you refused to look at Chris. If you did, you would’ve broken down right there. You knew why they rarely sent couples together; This is why.

“...’re….. -coords…?” the radio weakly called back. You openly sobbed in relief, even Chris heard it. It sounded like Canine. “...(Y/n)? Are y-.... -ere?”

“I’m here- I-” The radio suddenly cut out, the screen showing no bars of signal. You cursed loudly, wanting nothing more than to throw the stupid fucking radio deep into the woods. Chris tried to sit up, motioning for you to hand him his radio but you protested. “You need to lay back, Chris,” you warned.

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” he countered.

Your stubborn husband sat up fully with a horrible groan. You set the radio in his bloodied hands as your own trembling ones checked at his wounds. The white foam was starting to turn pink. You needed to stitch him up soon. As you worried over him and debated double-dosing him with another vial, the moon above you both had started to become lost behind a rolling wave of dark clouds. The forest around you faded more from your view, your flashlights now the only light sources, especially when you found yourselves under a blanket of black from above.

Chris got the radio to buzz with energy again, but as he was about to call out, you both jumped when the werewolf’s corpse beside you suddenly crackled with life. Startled, Chris tried to shove you behind him as your flashlights carved through the night, your eyes settling on the corpse as it writhed and twitched. The monster’s body contorted, limbs breaking and bones rearranging when you realized- It was reverting back.

This wasn’t like the lycans Chris dealt with in Romania.

You both watched on mortified as the body’s muscles and fur melted off to reveal a human body riddled with bullet holes and bruises. His eyes were still open, milky in appearance, but his dead eyes were set on you both despite being long deceased.

“Can you stand?” you grabbed at Chris’ arm. Chris gave himself a minute, allowing you to stand and brace your feet against the floor before you used all of your strength to help haul Chris up onto his own. You slung one of his arms over your shoulders and braced him against your side. “Tell me when you need to stop, yeah? We need to backtrack.”

Chris grumbled something akin to ‘okay,’ but he was more preoccupied by not losing consciousness and collapsing on you and possibly breaking your legs with his bulky weight. You both started slowly, one foot in front of the other, as you trudged through the woods. It was harder to see your footprints without the light from above, your flashlights barely picking up some of them and almost getting you lost a few times. You both trekked on for maybe twenty minutes at most when Chris groaned and you felt something warm start to seep into your clothes.

“Stop,” Chris slurred as more of his weight was pushed onto you.

You did so as fast as you could, helping Chris brace against a tree. He grabbed onto it, resting his back against the rough bark and groaned as he twisted his body around. You grew horribly concerned when you saw the foam around his bite wound had slopped off and started to bleed again. As you lifted the remnants of his shirt, you noticed to your horror that the veins surrounding the bite were horribly dark compared to his pale skin.

“Fuck, hold on,” you whispered as you reached for your medpack again.

Just as you loaded another vial into the med injector, Chris stopped you, his eyes were trained on something behind you.

“Look,” he nodded in the direction he was looking.

You turned your head to see something barely visible in the distance. Through the rows of overgrown trees was a house. A fucking house in the middle of the woods. It was probably long-abandoned at this point, but it was fucking something.

You grabbed at Chris again, the two of you starting in the direction of the house. Newfound adrenaline pumped through your veins as you clawed at the foliage surrounding you. You could sit Chris down and actually clean his wounds and stitch him up. You two actually had a chance to survive the night.

The house was in another small clearing, but this one was obviously man-made from at least over a century ago. Stumps had started to grow anew, a cobbled path was long worn out, yet the German cottage remained standing strong despite all of the hardships it probably faced. You braced Chris against the nearest tree much to his shock. He made to grab you when you backed away.

“I’m gonna check it out, make sure nothing’s inside,” you backed away. “I won’t be long.”

Chris nodded weakly, wincing as he clutched his bleeding hip and watched as you turned around and started for the cottage. You held your Red Nine out in front of you despite not having any ammo to reload her. You crept up to the home, peering in through dusty windows and trying to see through the splits in the old wood and stone. From what you could tell, nobody’s lived here in decades. You crept up the rickety old steps and tried the doorknob, and to your surprise it popped open with no problem. You took one last glance back at your husband before slipping inside.

If you had to guess based off of first appearances alone, you would have to say this cabin was abandoned after the end of the second world war judging by the photographs hung on the walls. You shivered in the cottage, unease filling you as you slowly explored the living room, a door sitting directly to your left that you didn’t go into yet. Everything was caked in a thick layer of dust and dirt now disturbed by your presence. The fireplace sat unused, empty birds nests having fallen into the pit long ago. A wolf’s head sat mounted above the mantle, the taxidermy must have not been done properly as the pelt was half-rotten off. A few chairs laid knocked over, a side table nearby held an old oil lamp that shockingly still had oil left inside. You didn’t light it yet, though. You stepped through the archway and into what used to be the kitchen; An old timey stove sat ransacked of metal, a wash basin was dented on the countertop, and the table and chairs were all moved as though whoever lived here got up with a start and fled. There was a back door that led out to what used to be a garden once upon a time, now it’s overgrown with weeds and ivy that crept up the backside of the home.

There was a door at the other end of the kitchen. Opening the door revealed a bathroom with the basic set up from the time. The tiled floor beneath you threatened to break from under you so you left before you accidentally went through the floor. Backtracking to the living room to check out the other door, opening it leads you to two more doors. The first door you opened led to a flight of stairs going down to what you would guess was a cellar. The other opened up to a bedroom. The bed was barely big enough to fit two people and sat right by the door. There was a big armoire sitting tall in the corner with a mirror long-since shattered in the other. There was no closet, just a few pieces of old furniture that had seen better days. You backed out of the bedroom and faced the basement door. You were half tempted to bring Chris inside and then go down just in case, but you bit the inside of your lip and slowly descended.

The second you could peek out from under the first floor, you did. To your surprise, you found what looked to be a resistance fighter’s supply down here. Hurrying down the rest of the steps, you were utterly shocked to find more guns than you knew what to do with scattered around the room with boxes of ammo sitting neatly with their respected firearm. You looked over a large map of the area filled with X’s and from you could tell by the faded text were old camps this person wiped out. Beside the large map was a basket full of the enemy’s medals, rusted iron crosses and horrible symbols from a dark period in history. Whoever lived in this cabin was badass.

As you were about to grab a bottle of lantern oil and a new wick from a shelf, you spotted a lot of other weird things down here. There were crosses made of silver, bottles of what looked to be holy water, wooden stakes in a pile, even strings of long petrified garlic hanging from the ceiling. Was the person who lived here also a monster hunter?

You noticed something out of the corner of your eye, something long and big draped in an old canvas cloth. Slowly approaching, you pulled back the curtain and immediately started hacking up a lung at the dust cloud that rolled off. As you batted away the dust, you perked up at what was in front of you: A hand-cranked radio with a headset.

This was it.

You immediately turned on a dime and bolted up the stairs and out the front door. Chris was spooked by the front door slamming but calmed down when you held your hands out for him. You helped him lumber his way back into the house, putting him down in the first chair that wasn’t tipped over. You reached for the oil lantern and yanked the old wick and dumped the oil out before restocking it. You took Chris’ lighter out from his hip pouch and struck it open, quickly setting the wick on fire and putting it back down on the side table. Bathing now in golden flames, you switched off both flashlights while pulling the medkit off of your belt and setting it beside you as you kneeled in front of Chris.

You fumbled with the bag, breathing through your nose as you fought back visions of your husband’s unfortunate demise. Your mind was foggy, but you followed the proper steps. You sanitized your hands, you gloved up, you sanitized the med injector and loaded a new vial in and administered it right below the bite this time. Chris braced himself and groaned behind grit teeth as his nails dug into the old wooden arm rests. You pulled out the tube of anti-septic wipes and got to work cleaning every last cut you could get at before locking it all in with another pass of the first aid spray.

Now comes the stitching.

You peeled open the surgical needle packaging and loosened up about a foot of thread and chose to stitch his torn shoulder first. Chris was burning hot to the touch, his body heat that radiated off of him was dangerously warm. Sweat beaded at his hairline, his face was starting to look sunken and pale, but he kept his gaze on you. You started to stitch him slowly, being careful to not dig too deep and cause him any more pain than he needs to be in. It didn’t take you long to patch the claw marks up, having done this to other DSO agents in the past including Leon. You tied off the thick thread and snapped the rest off with a tug, tossing the remnants of the line and drawing out about another foot of thread. You went on to the claw marks on his thigh next.

Your mind wandered to your partner, hoping and praying that he was alright and that he didn’t end up as werewolf food. There was no way that could’ve happened though, this is Leon you were talking about. He’s dealt with things bigger and nastier than a werewolf, especially the lanky one that was full of bullets that chased after him. Your mind also wandered to the rest of Hound Wolf and how worried they all must have been, especially after getting no call back from you after telling them that their captain was down. This whole mission was one cruel accident.

You tied off the thread and snapped it clean, putting the needle back into its packaging for a minute so you could tape on some protective gauze on both sets of stitches. Chris really didn’t move and he especially didn’t say much, his eyes slowly growing heavier and heavier the more he heated up.

You moved onto his bitemark, the worst of the three. The bleeding had slowed down immensely after two injector shots, but it was still fresh and open. A horrible ring of bruising formed around it, the edges of his skin were starting to turn a bitter color, the veins growing darker as they spiderwebbed to the rest of his body. You started to stitch from the outside, working in an almost circular spiral to seal the ripped skin. The way he was sitting slouched in the chair wasn’t helping either, but it was the first place you thought to put him. You weren’t able to stitch everything shut, but your work would have to do when he’s missing a big dip in his skin. You broke the thread after tying it and quickly packed gauze on top of it, taping it all down to his sickly skin.

“Okay,” you whispered as you smoothed out the gauze. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay, big guy.” You haphazardly looked up at Chris’ face only to see his eyes were drooping as he started to drift off. You panicked, standing straight up and grabbing Chris’ shoulders and gave him a good shake. Being jolted awake in such a way had his cobalt eyes peel open and look up at you nervously. “Don’t fall asleep,” you warned him. “If you feel like you’re falling asleep, you need to tell me.”

“‘m sorry,” he mumbled as he relaxed more in the chair.

You looked back in your medpack and dug around for some painkillers, coming up with a small pill bottle full of small oxy pills. You took out two and handed them to Chris. You were about to offer him some water from his canteen, but to your shock, Chris was able to swallow them dry. You stood back up and pat the dust off of your knees. You produced your radio again, dead set on getting through to someone.

You picked up one of the other chairs in the living room and sat it up right, collapsing in it as you turned the dials until the green light came back on. The static wasn’t as bad, it sparked some hope in you.

“Leon? Leon, do you hear me?” you called out. To your dismay, the radio remained silent on the other end. You turned the dials a bit more and shifted the radio higher. “Leon, come in!” The green light suddenly cut off as your radio suddenly turned off entirely. You smacked it and even tried the hand crank, but the thing still wouldn’t turn back on. “Fuck!” you grit your teeth. You tossed the radio to the floor in a small fit of rage before you looked over at Chris, his own radio still attached to his hip. Seeing you look over at him, he winced as he stretched it over to you until you took it from him. You smeared the blood off of the radio’s screen and redialed the knobs until you got only one bar again as it crackled with life. You could hear mumbling on the other end from multiple people. “Hello? Hound Wolf, come in-”

“-(/n)?” a voice cut in. “What’s-.... -cation? Over-”

“We’re stuck in a cabin, Captain Redfield is injured and I’m low on medical supplies.” The radio cut in and out again, a wave of desperation came over you as you hugged the radio closer to you. “Hello?” The mumbling died down as static filled the cottage as white noise. “Fucking shit,” you cursed aloud as you cut the radio off and shoved it into one of your pockets. You rubbed your hands over your tired face, not caring that you still had the gloves that were covered with first aid spray and blood. “Damn this shit to hell.”

“Angel?” Chris called out weakly. You looked up from behind your hands to see Chris covered head to toe in a sheen of sweat, his skin having lost all color as his darkened veins spread up to his neck. “I’m not feeling too hot.”

You stood up and hurried over. You brushed your hand across his forehead, utterly shocked by how hot he was. He leaned desperately into your touch as you were a lot colder than him right now. You grasped at his wrist and felt at his pulsepoint, pressing your mouth in a thin line as you felt his pulse was far higher than it should’ve been. Was this all spanning from the blood loss? The adrenaline that’s now running out? Did you maybe gauge too high on the oxy pills?

Was he infected?

That question hit you like a bullet in the heart. You didn’t want to think about it, you didn’t want to think about the possibility that your husband may be turning into something horrible.

“Are you still in pain?” you asked softly as you brushed his soaked hair out of his face.

He nodded weakly, eyes fluttering at your touch. You reached back into your bag and pulled out one more pill. As you handed it over, Chris’ eyes shot open, burning a hole in your soul.

“Something’s outside,” he warned you.

As if on cue, a distant odd howl rang out, echoing throughout the woods. It chilled you to the bone but it seemed to have affected Chris as he winced at the sound and hissed through grit teeth. He acted like you had just raked your nails on a chalkboard right in front of him.

You were suddenly filled with a fiery sense of determination. The need to protect your husband like the way he protected you boiled inside of you.

“Stay here,” you ordered, taking charge over him.

Chris did as he was told, slouching back in the chair as the wood groaned and creaked under his heavy weight.

You disappeared down into the cellar again, immediately going for one of the walls that had more guns stored in it than the BSAA’s vaccine clinics. You pulled an older modeled shotgun off of the wall and slung it over your shoulder, snatching up two boxes of shells and shoving them in your other hip pouch that used to hold your handgun ammo. If it took almost every bullet to kill one, you highly doubted a werewolf could survive a box of shells at close range. Just as you were about to head back upstairs, out of the corner of your eye you saw an open metal box hidden partially under the stairs. Peeking in, you found it was full of bear traps, most rusted a bit but all of them fairly usable. You could only grab four, the old iron heavier than you thought it’d be as you dragged them up the stairs and out the front door. You set the shotgun down on the stairs and dragged each bear trap out towards the outer edge of the clearing. Each one you tossed down, you got on your knees and forced the rusting iron open until it locked in place and ready to spring shut with a violent snap. You would try to hide each of them with whatever mess of leaves and small branches you could find, whatever was light enough to rest on the plate without setting them off.

By the time you set each one, you hurried back to the cabin and snatched up the shotgun. You were about to go back downstairs for the rest of them when you heard the howling pick up again. It was closer, too close for your liking. You instead shut the door and backed away. The brief glance of Chris that you caught was heartwrenching, he was clutching his hip with his face twisted in absolute pain. You reached over and started pulling on a wooden cabinet near the fireplace, huffing and grunting as you hauled it across the wooden floorboards until you wedged it right up against the front door. You went for the backdoor, shoving the dining chairs out of the way of the rickety old table and opted to push it up against the garden door. Because the table was lighter than the cabinet, you tossed the chairs on top of the wooden table, hoping that the added weight would slow down whatever came through.

As you turned back to the living room, you jumped with a shout to see Chris upright and at the window by the front door. The old curtains were pulled back and he was staring outside like he hadn’t just been used as a human chew toy.

“Chris, what are you doing?” you worried as you marched up to him. Your husband didn’t respond to you, he was staring out of the window at the treeline like he was catatonic. It was only when your hand grasped at his shoulder did he react to you, turning to look at you with worried eyes- Were his irises… bigger? “You need to lay down,” you ordered.

You guided him away from the living, turning him away from the chair that he was just sitting in and helping him to the bedroom. He stumbled like one of the shambling corpses from back in Raccoon City, slow and uneasy steps until you helped him turn around and sit down at the edge of the bed. You carefully helped him lay down, checking at his bandages and feeling his forehead to find things were still the same. As you looked over your husband, you didn’t fail to see even more concerning things. His nails started to take on a darker color, some of his veins were bulging, his facial hair had grown thicker at the sideburns and he… he just seemed bigger.

It was absolutely crushing you as you started to give in to reality.

Your husband was turning.

He knew it. You knew it.

And there was nothing you could do to stop him.

You caressed his cheek, your wedding band was so cold on his blazing cheek that it felt like a dream when you touched him. His eyes fluttered at the feeling, his quaking hand coming up to grasp at your side. He was panting like a dog, chest heaving, limbs heavy- sanity fleeting…

“Angel,” the petname spilled from his lips. Your eyes started to well up with tears, throat tightening. “I love you.” His voice was tense and hoarse, he was struggling to keep his voice from wavering. “You need to leave me behind.”

That stung worse than knowing what he was about to become. You shook your head and carded your hand in his hair, tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

“I’m not. I’m not leaving you. I’m getting you out of here.”

“(Y/n)-”

“No. Don’t you (Y/n) or Angel me. I made vows to you, dammit. I’m not leaving here without you.” You could see the tears glazing over Chris’ eyes as his grip on you tightened. “There’s a radio in the basement. I’m gonna try calling a European base from that. Just stay here. Please.”

You didn’t leave any room for Chris to say anything. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead and tore yourself away from your husband, hurrying out of the room and down the stairs. You dragged over a nearby crate to the table with the radio and sat down. You pulled the headset on and started cranking the radio, the old machinery groaning after being dormant for so long. You grunted and hissed at the burn in your arms from turning the ancient crank, but you could hear the battery whirling with life. You went on for maybe a dozen minutes or so before you deemed it had enough power to last a single broadcast. You flipped the switch and was met with beautiful radio frequencies with minimal static.

You cranked knobs and turned dials on the old timey radio, fingers quaking as you slowly set the radio to the BSAA’s normal frequencies. You weren’t sure if you would get Hound Wolf or the nearest base, but at this point you couldn’t care. The static suddenly cut out to a pure frequency, a short laughter rolling off of you as you turned on the headset’s microphone.

“Hello? Hello, is anyone out there?” you tested.

It took a minute, but you were met with the most beautiful sound in your life.

“This is a secured BSAA government frequency,” a French accent spoke clearly to you. “Who authorized use of this channel?”

“Holy shit, it worked,” you whispered as tears of joy replaced your tears of desperation. “This is (Y/n) Redfield with the DSO. We need immediate evacuation from our rendezvous; Captain Redfield is down! We’re split from the rest of Hound Wolf and I’ve lost contact with agent Kennedy.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. You worried briefly that the connection was lost, but the agent on the other end spoke up before you lost hope.

“Understood, agent. Evac will arrive at 0300-”

“0300?!” you cut the agent off. It was barely past midnight, you couldn’t hold out for another three hours at this rate. “No- No, no. You don’t understand, we need to get out of here now.”

“I’m sorry, agent, but that is time the carrier will arrive. You have to meet up or you will be left behind.”

The frequency disconnected into static as the radio lost its power. You were left stunned in your seat. Three hours. You had to not only survive and hold out for three hours, but you also had to drag Chris back to the rendezvous, find Hound Wolf and find Leon or else you’ll all be left behind. What the actual fuck was going on? You threw the headset on the table and cursed loudly, rubbing at your temples when your little bout of rage was cut short by the sudden explosion outside followed by a pained howl.

You caught something in one of your traps.

You snatched up another box of shells and loaded the gun as you ascended the stairs. You could hear it howling and crying out there amongst the darkness as you cleared the archway back to the living room. You rounded the cabinet, nearly knocking your hip into it and steadied yourself by the window. You peered out, poking your fingers through the dusty laced curtains and spied the beast from your hiding spot despite the oil lantern shining back at you against the glass.

The beast was tearing at the earth and swiping at the trap brutally crushing its left ankle. You were honestly shocked the trap didn’t take off the werewolf’s foot entirely, especially the way it looked from where you were standing. The beast snatched at the rusted iron jaws and yanked, the old metal screeching and groaning and stretching thin before the two pieces exploded off of the trigger plate. The monster yowled and snarled towards the cabin as it threw the jaws away. It stalked towards you slowly, limping on its good paw as its neon eyes were set on you. There was no use for ducking down or hiding somewhere else, it tracked you both here most likely from the trail of blood Chris had left behind.

You took a step back from the window and smashed the bottom right pane, pumping the shotgun and sticking the nose out the now open window. The beast sped up, hobbling, claws flexing and maw wide like a rabid dog. You waited until it got within maybe a few yards of the front steps before you fired. The beast flinched and stumbled at the buckshot, covering its head with his massive hands as it took a few lumbering steps back. You ducked down this time and pumped the shotgun again. You were about to swing yourself back up when you heard the werewolf suddenly go silent.

There was no way you killed it with a trap and one shell from over twenty feet away. Just as you started to slowly peel yourself away from the wall, a monstrous hand broke through the remaining panes and slashed at you. You screamed out of complete terror, finger slipping on the trigger and firing earlier than you anticipated. Though you missed its arm, you were fast enough to take out two of its fingers as well as put a nice sized hole in the roof. You kicked yourself away from the wall and scrambled to stand up just as the monster started to kick in the door. You only managed to scramble back to the chair you had sat in earlier when the door splintered open with the force of an explosion, the cabinet scraping against the floor and falling over with a horrible bang. The werewolf took up the entire doorway, crouching on its haunches as it crawled into the cabin.

You pumped your shotgun and discarded the empty shell and aimed, not even giving the beast a second to stand before you shot it. The spread of the shell tore apart its face and chest, the monster clawing at its torn apart flesh and backed away into the corner. Instead of pumping the shotgun again, you picked up the chair in front of you and hurled it at the monster, the thin wooden seat breaking apart as it collided hard. As it crumbled, you pumped the gun again and fired, the spread digging into its meaty shoulder and chest.

Before you could discharge the shell and reach for more, the beast sprung up and lunged. You rolled out of the way just in time to avoid getting pounced on, the werewolf flying into the opposite corner behind you. You hauled ass, vaulting through the now open window and sped down the stairs, your hand fumbling between reloading your shotgun and turning on your flashlight again. The second you reloaded and pumped, you swung around and fired just as the beast started to lunge again, completely knocking it out of the air and sending it to collide with the dirt before you. It was too close and still too active to get a good shot on it, so you spun the gun around and held it by the hot nose, craned your arms back and swung the heavy wooden stock down until it cracked the beast across the skull. You heard a deep crackle inside of the monster as it tried to stand, the eye you hit in the crossfire suddenly going out like a blown candle as blood seeped down the side of its face. You wound the gun back again and swung upwards, smacking its jaw and making it stumble back as its jaw hung a bit crooked, some of its teeth coming off with the swing.

You backed up and pumped the gun, taking aim as it swatted at you like an angry cat. Just as you were firing, it moved out of the way to avoid getting another buckshot to the face and tackled you to the ground. You landed with a shrill scream, pain radiating up your spine and in your shoulders where it had you pinned by. You brought the gun up just in time from it to bite at the old metal, blood and saliva rained down on you in cold and slimy droplets as it shook around and tried to bite at you. Somehow during the struggle, the shotgun pumped again and the trigger got pulled, the violent explosion shooting out towards the wilderness did nothing to stop the beast.

As it was about to wind back and try again, a gunshot rang out and something lodged in the back of its skull, its single eye going wide before it dropped dead to the side of you. You sat up quickly, scrambling away, watching as this body followed in the tracks of the other one as its body melted and reformed into that of another human man. Turning back to whoever shot it, you were dumbfounded to see Chris leaning against the broken doorframe of the house, his Samurai Edge clutched in his trembling hand.

“Chris,” you whispered, ditching the broken shotgun on the ground and limping over to him. As you neared him, you saw just how fast he was starting to turn. His hair was darker, his irises were a brighter shade of blue while the whites of his eyes were almost a yellow color. The tips of his ears were starting to come to a point while his cheekbones sat higher under his eyes. You could see his teeth from behind his parted lips, the canines sharper, his molars following close behind. “You need to be lying down.”

Just as you made it to the steps, Chris held out his hand to stop you. There was an odd look in his eyes, a weird glint like something inside of him was screaming to not trust you. It was killing you inside seeing your husband like this.

“You need to get away from me,” he repeated the same thing he said earlier. He handed you his radio, his nails starting to slowly lengthen, his nailbeds were red and swollen. “Call Leon and get the hell out of here.”

You took the radio from him but you didn’t use it. You pocketed it and nodded for him to go back inside as you followed right behind him. You started down the stairs, and to your shock, Chris followed you slowly. You sat back down on the crate in front of the radio and tried the crank again, your arms burning from the harsh labor as you cranked power back into the radio. You could see Chris eyeing the crank as you turned it, you knew he wanted to help you but with his whole… affliction… You both couldn’t risk this radio breaking. As you cranked the radio some more, you could see Chris occupying himself by looking around the bunker, eyeing all of the guns and the map and the other things strewn around before he suddenly found a certain gun rack very interesting. He set his Samurai Edge on a nearby table.

The radio turned on with another crackle before it faded, as you turned the dials and knobs you winced at all the other frequencies kicking in and out while you dialed it to Leon’s radio frequency that you know by heart. The second you got clean air, you pulled the headset back up to your ear, cradling it with your shoulder as you lowered the microphone.

“Leon? Leon, do you hear me?” you called out for God knows how many times tonight.

“...-(/n)? Holy shit,” you heard Leon from the other end. He sounded muffled, you could hear him scrambling on the other end. “Where are you? Are you two alright?”

“No- No Leon, listen. We need to get out of here. The BSAA is sending a carrier back but it won't be here until 0300-”

“0300?” he repeated your previous disbelief. “(Y/n), that’s in two hours. We got fucking werewolves crawling out of the forest here.”

“I tried telling them that, but that’s the soonest they’ll be here- Look, Leon. Chris…” You spared a glance back at your husband who wouldn’t look at you. “Chris is hurt.”

You regretted not telling Leon the whole truth.

“Fuck. Where are you two, exactly?”

“I-I don’t know, some cabin in the middle of the woods. It’s loaded with all sorts of shit, but I can’t find any coords or anything like that.”

“You got flares, right? Someone should be able to find you if you shoot one off; Me or Hound Wolf.”

Your flares. Your flares were still in your kit you left back upstairs.

“Alright, alright, I’ll fire one. Just hurry, please.”

You cut the radio and hopped off the crate to see Chris suddenly hoisting the heavy metal gun rack up and moving it away from the wall. To your surprise, there was a cut out in the compacted dirt and stone where thick iron bars sat like a cage. You slowly walked up behind Chris, peering in to see the cage was full of scratch marks and a set of chains with cuffs laying on the floor. Was the original owner of this cabin also a werewolf? Chris opened the door and tried to step in but you stopped him.

“What are you doing?” you were starting to tremble again.

“Locking myself up,” he shrugged your hand off of him.

He stepped inside and closed the gate behind him with a horrible screech, when it slammed shut he jammed a nearby iron bar in the door so it wouldn’t open easily.

“Chris-”

“Listen to me,” he grabbed your shoulders through the bars. You were honestly terrified, your heart hammering in your chest. The sight of what he’s turning into, those eyes starting to glow in the dark and he’s so much bigger than he used to be… it was utterly frightening. “If this is different, if I’m not like the lycans- I’ll turn back. You can come back here and let me out when the morning comes-”

“I’m not leaving you, you idiot!”

“You have to!” he suddenly snapped. He dragged you as close as he could to the bars, the old iron digging in and crushing you as Chris did the same to himself. He was panting like an animal, his voice deeper, his eyes wild and hungry. “Do you understand what I’m turning into? The monster I am now? I can smell the fear dripping off of you, I can hear your heart beating inside of you.” His hands moved up to snatch at the collar of your jacket, dragging your face incredibly close to his. “(Y/n), I want to chase you down and tear you apart.”

“Chris-” your words barely a whisper.

“You need to leave me behind.”

He let go of you completely and stalked off into the cage. You backed away slowly, your legs feeling like they were made of jelly as your mind raced at a million miles an hour.

You needed to get out of here.

You grabbed Chris’ Samurai Edge from the table and headed up the stairs and back into the wrecked living room. You sifted through the splintered wood and produced your flare gun from your discarded med kit. You loaded both flares into the gun and took aim at the hole you had made in the roof from your misfire. Pulling the trigger discharged a single red flare that passed through the roof with no problem and lit up the night sky. You stared up at the hole, wincing a bit at the red light that bled through for a moment before a loud bang erupted from the back door. You only saw a flurry of splinters erupting from what used to be the back door before the table and chairs you had set up as a barricade flew out in all directions. Another fucking monster, bigger and nastier looking than the others clawed its way inside and set its evil sights upon you, its dark fur tangles with thorns and ivy vines from where it had crawled through the overgrown garden.

“Fuck,” you grit your teeth and ran.

You vaulted the window again and ran as quickly as you could away from the cottage, stopping just before your line of traps that were still laid out and spun around, holding Chris’ faithful Samurai Edge up as the beast broke through the front door. It was a tank in itself, massive, powerful- Dangerous. You didn’t waste time. You couldn’t waste anymore time. You fired bullet after bullet into the monster as it slowly stalked forward. Where the other wolves of its pack flinched and cried out, this one didn’t. It kept stalking towards you, jaw hinged open, saliva drooling, eyes gleaming in the dark and its claws spread ready to cut you down.

You could imagine what your husband would say at this moment.

‘You should’ve left when I told you. You should’ve followed my orders.’

You clenched your jaw harder and reloaded the magazine, tears welling in your eyes are you started to back away from the advancing monster. You could hear his words echoing in your head, the horrible things the monster he was becoming made him say to you. You didn’t even get to say ‘I love you.’

Your anger boiled over, your spirit breaking.

“Come on you fucker!” you screamed as you took aim and shot the beast in the face.

That did it.

The monster lunged suddenly. It felt like it happened in slow motion. You felt the massive paws grab your shoulders, you felt yourself toppling over as you tried to scurry back, you felt your body collide with the forest floor-

And the sudden burst of agonizing pain split right through your backside and out your front.

The wolf stepped away from you for a moment to bay at the top of its lungs, giving you just enough time to glance down at your person to see a gnarled tree branch sticking out from your lower left abdomen, blood pooling out all dark and sticky. Your body pumped with adrenaline once again, endorphins flooding your system as you felt yourself starting to trickle into shock. You didn’t even realize you had screamed as loud as you could, only feeling the air in your lungs escape as your trembling fingers came up to your stuck wound. Your blood felt so warm on such cold hands.

It was as the beast was starting to advance towards you did it suddenly stop. Its ears perked up, swiveling around as it crept closer to you. You could hear something else besides its deep growl, something else was getting closer to you both, something just as big and heavy, probably another fucking werewolf if your luck had anything to do with it. It made to finish you off, but it never got the chance to.

He felt horrible as you backed away from the cage in complete fear. Horrible because he just told his wife that he wanted to tear her apart and horrible from the raging fire going on right under his skin. He heard you take his gun from the table and head back upstairs.

He studied the cage he locked himself in, running roughened fingers over the claw marks gouged into the old stone that made up this German dungeon. His hand was bigger than the spread, his own nails scratching white marks into the wall. He turned to the set of chains on the floor. Two meant for the wrists and one meant for the neck. Picking one up to lock his left wrist up proved that he was much larger than whoever it was that used to inhabit this place as it only covered half of his wrist before he couldn't move it anymore. He cursed under his breath and threw the cuff back to the ground. This place was tight and dark. If he was already bigger than the monster that was stuck down here, how big would he get? Would he even fit? He felt like the walls were closing in on him, the musty and moldy smell of this whole cage was making him want to double over and vomit.

Through the horrible smells, he could smell you. You smelled so sweet and delicate, your lotion mostly sweated off and your perfume long gone. There was a sour tang though, what he guessed was fear polluted the space around you as he heard you fumbling around upstairs.

He shouldn’t have yelled at you. He shouldn’t have lost control.

Another wave of agony and dread washed over him, blanketing him, smothering him as he felt everything moving around inside of him. He was aware of every hair on his body, every organ inside of him twisting and sloshing, every bead of sweat that built up on his body. His clothes were woefully tight, his boots were on the brink of bursting.

How much longer was this going to drag out? How much longer until the moon pokes out from behind the clouds? He couldn’t take it anymore.

He heard you suddenly shoot the flare, the bang making his skull throb and brain get fuzzy. He clawed his fingers through his short hair, long nails scratching uncomfortably at his skull as he paced. He would go to one end of the cage and knock the wall with his knuckles and then walk back to the other side and knock his knuckles against the other wall when he suddenly heard a horrible bang echo from above him.

He turned on a dime and stared up at the wooden beams, his ears straining as he heard you curse and run out of the cabin again just as something very big and very loud broke through the backside of the cottage. He could smell it, the stench of wet dog and blood; Another fucking werewolf. How big was this fucking pack?

It sounded a hell of a lot bigger than the other three you all have dealt with tonight, its steps making the entire home rattle and dust rain down from the above Chris before it tore through the front.

He heard his gun go off, shot after shot after shot that did almost nothing to slow the monster down. He heard you curse out loud, curse the monster, shoot it some more before he suddenly heard you wail. The sound rocked him to his core, the horrible and agonizing feeling lifted for a brief moment before he was suddenly filled with a boiling hot rage.

“(Y/N)!” he roared at the top of his lungs.

He had to save you.

He had to protect you.

His large paws wrapped around the flaking bars and pulled, thrashing the old metal cage door until it started to loosen from the stone surrounding it, dust clouding up as Chris started to tear it from the wall entirely. He could only hear his own blood rushing through his veins and the fierce pounding of your heart outside the cabin as you fought off the other werewolf. He felt something completely take over him, shoving the rest of his dwindling sanity aside as he was filled with an overwhelming strength.

The door ripped out of the stonework with a shrill tearing of metal, the door clattering to the ground as he was suddenly freed.

It felt like he was watching someone controlling his body, like he was forced to sit and be bound to a chair with his eyes forced open, staring out of his eyes as his body was piloted by something cruel and vicious. He was lumbering, large and unsteady, heavy footsteps made the old wooden stairs creak under his bulk and brawn as he ascended. The second he cleared through the trashed living room and out of the front door, he spotted his prey.

Hunched up, crawling towards a terrified woman who laid helpless on the forest floor, impaled at the hip by a large tree branch that poked out from her lower torso. She covered the wound, openly sobbing as the beast crawled closer to her.

Her smell was so sweet, so familiar, so warm and kind and-

His wife.

His.

His mind cleared just enough to realize he was getting closer at an alarming pace, his vision going completely red as both the monster and his wife turned their sights on him.

Imagine your surprise when the monster that was about to rip you to shreds was suddenly yanked off of you. You only saw the pair of torn up cargo pants, but that was all you needed to see. You tried to sit up, the branch you were attached to didn’t agree with you though. You felt behind you, feeling the branch protruding from a fallen log that was now warm and sticky from your blood. You whimpered and tried breathing through your nose, trying to minimize your movements as your hand found the base of the branch was a little flimsy.

Glancing over, you saw the monster get the beat down of its life. Chris was fighting it like his life depended on it. Wrestling with the beast that was bigger than him, claws slashing and the two snarling and snapping their jaws at each other. Blood splattered from both of them.

You took a deep breath and tried to bend the branch at the base. Your fingers curled around the not-so-flush piece of wood and kept tugging, managing to crack half of the branch off before you had to stop. You whimpered and cried out, desperate to get yourself free without completely shoving yourself off of the branch. You didn’t want to die from blood loss.

The two went at each other's throats, Chris smacking the other beast in the face multiple times before he grabbed ahold of its lower jaw and snapped it to the side, rendering it useless as it hung loosely by the skin and exposed tendons.

You took another deep breath and bent the branch, using your legs and bending against the branch as leverage until it finally split with a crackle from the wood behind you. You slumped against the rest of the log, planting your hands on either side of you to try and lift yourself up only to find your body was way too heavy to get it upright. Chris had slashed at the werewolf’s eyes and held it back by its shoulders when it tried to lunge and bite him despite no longer having a bottom set of fangs.

A sharp gunshot rang out and the beast was struck through the skull, brain matter and blood sprayed out the opposite end. You could see the light die from its eyes as it suddenly slumped to the ground between you and Chris. You cried through grit teeth and sat up as best as you could, trying your absolute best to keep the broken piece of branch inside of you so you don’t bleed out. You and your husband glanced over to the gunman to see-

“Leon?” you whimpered.

Your partner stood maybe 50 feet away from you both, having shot the monster from the edge of the clearing that was to your left. He lowered the old-fashioned rifle and started to hurry to you when he realized that something else was horribly wrong. Startled by seeing Chris the way he was, Leon raised the rifle back up cautiously. You could see the conflict in his stern eyes, like he was gauging how much humanity was left inside of your husband, not knowing if he should shoot or not.

Chris, on the other hand, was now fighting for not just your safety but now Leon’s. The amount of willpower it’s taking him to not kill Leon and finish you off was breaking his sanity apart like a crumbling marble statue. He needed you both to go.

You started to scramble back when Chris reached for you, yelping as he violently snagged ahold the collar of your torn up jacket and shirt and hauled you up onto uneasy feet. You snagged his Samurai Edge from off of the ground just as you were. You sputtered, hands not knowing whether to claw at Chris’ fist locked tight around the fabric that was now starting to choke you or to hold them against your wound that was still very much occupied with a foreign objects. You didn’t have to think for long as he threw you towards your partner, Leon shouldering the rifle to rush forward and catch you, he wrapped one of your arms around his shoulder and kept his other on your wound to apply pressure.

“Get her the fuck out of here,” Chris snarled.

Leon didn’t argue. Leon didn’t come up with some witty comeback. Leon didn’t even say a single word. He just turned you both right around and started to drag you back towards the dropship’s pickup. You didn’t even know the time, you didn’t know how much longer you had until the pickup arrived.

You didn’t know how long you could hold out for.

Glancing over your shoulder back to your husband as you and Leon headed towards the other end of the clearing, Chris kept his eyes on you the entire time. The blue glow in his eyes, the blood and sweat that dripped off of him, the look of complete and utter shame in his eyes.

And as if your night couldn’t get any worse, you noticed something in the woods before you both; A faint blue light slowly starting to come closer to you, slowly getting brighter. Looking up in a panic, you felt what was left of your blood freeze completely as the large rolling clouds slowly peeled away from the full moon overhead.

Neither of you could help the compelling feeling that washed over you both, turning your heads at the sounds of Chris’ transformation finally taking place. Where he was just standing, he was now groveling on his hands and knees. His back hunched as his bones wormed around inside of him, pushing against his skin and his painfully tight shirt. You could hear all of the horrible noises his body was making from where you both stood, the sounds made you wanna vomit and cover your ears and cower until it was all over. It was only when you saw him bleeding at the gums while his face stretched disgustingly into a weird looking muzzle did Leon snap out of it, shaking you and hurrying his pace.

“C’mon, we’re going.” Leon’s words took you out of your trance. You both disappeared into the wilderness, moving a little faster than how you and Chris moved. Leon tried to hurry, but he was more focused on trying to not jostle the branch still inside of you. You could still hear Chris violently transforming behind you, his inhuman wails echoing through the woods. “I couldn’t find Hound Wolf,” Leon admitted. “Did you get through to them?”

“No,” you slurred your words.

Your adrenaline was wearing off. Your body was starting to grow sluggish as you limped and stumbled over your own feet on flat ground.

“Shit,” Leon hissed. “You gotta stay awake for me, yeah? Where’s your kit?”

“Back-” You swallowed thickly, a faint taste of iron sat at the back of your tongue. “Back at the cabin. I used it all on Chris.”

As if the mere mention of his name, you heard a horrible howl ring out in the woods surrounding you both.

He was awake.

And you left him a pretty sizable trail right to your exact location.

“Fuck. You got any bullets left in that?” Leon felt your jacket pocket for the Samurai Edge.

“No-” you cut him off. “I emptied it already.”

He must be low on rifle ammo for the one he had slung over his other shoulder.

“(Y/n), I don’t wanna be a pain, but we need to pick up the pace-”

Branches started to snap and shatter behind you both. You froze, you two turned just briefly to see a massive shadow tearing apart the woods behind you, only catching glimpses of deep fur and big blue eyes floating somewhere in the dark beyond the winding trees before it all went silent. You could see Leon straining, eyes pinned to the trees surrounding you, his throat bobbing as he listened to his surroundings.

He suddenly shoved you, falling back himself as something impossibly massive launched itself through the part he had created. You landed on your uninjured side, but the force of hitting the dirt made you wound pulse with venom and fire. You looked up to see your husband in all of his terrifying glory, your heart dropping to your ass as you stared up at him with terrified eyes.

Taller than any BOW you’ve fought, covered head to toe in deep brown fur that was graying, a hulking mass of muscle and monster that was ripped right out of a horror film. His bright gaze narrowed at Leon as he backed away, hiking the rifle off of his shoulder and taking aim at Chris.

He only managed to fire one round into Chris’ broad shoulder before he was tackled, pinned up against a tree with his rifle crushed between their bodies like you had been before. Chris’ jaws snapped down on the rifle, bending the old metal in half and splintering the wood stock like it was made out of toothpicks. Leon struggled and hollered, trying to worm his way out of your husband’s grip when you found yourself reaching for the flare gun you had pocketed a few minutes ago. You raised it, aiming at Chris’ expansive back and didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

A bright red flash blinded you and Leon for a moment as Chris suddenly pulled away at the scorching burn the flare had given him. You didn’t manage to catch his fur on fire, but you left a nice singe on his spinal cord of fluff that had him backing away.

Leon ran to you, dropping the destroyed rifle to the ground and snatched you up off of the ground. He tried to carry you, only managing to halfway pick you up as you both fled back towards the cabin. You didn’t have a lot of options and the ones you were presented with weren’t the best. Your only hope was to go back and use whatever else you could from that basement.

When the clearing came into view, Chris struck again, just as silent as the last time. You nearly fell flat on your face this time, managing to grab hold of a tree and skinned your knees on the gravel beneath you as Leon tried to scurry away from the werewolf. He managed to get on his feet and take a few steps when Chris’ massive hand came up and tore at his left shoulder, your partner getting hoisted in the air and thrown off somewhere deeper into the woods. You couldn’t help the horrible scream that left you, earning yourself Chris’ full attention now that your partner was left to bleed out amongst the roots and dirt.

He snarled at you, wolfen ears pinned back against his canine skull. He stalked towards you on inhumane feet. Every step he took, you took four quaking ones back until you backed out of trees and right back into the clearing. It was when he picked up the pace did you turn around and start to limp faster back towards the cabin, not looking behind you at all when something rang out.

A loud snapping of metal was quickly followed by a high-pitched canine cry. Turning your head towards the noise, you saw one of your traps had snagged a hold of Chris’ leg. Where the other werewolf almost lost the leg completely, the trap barely cut in deep for Chris. You stumbled backwards, raising Chris’ own gun against him. It rattled in your quaking hands as you held it with both to try and steady it. You didn’t have any more ammo, but Chris didn’t know that. The werewolf didn’t know that.

“Chris?” you called out. “Chris, can you hear me?”

It was foolish to think you could get through to him. It was foolish to think the little folktales you heard in passing growing up would actually work. Tears started to fall down your cheeks as Chris grabbed hold of the metal jaws of the bear trap. You should’ve listened. You should’ve listened to your husband and you wouldn’t end up slaughtered by his own hand. He kept his piercing eyes on you as he yanked the jaws open, snapping them off of their old hinges and tossing them to the ground. His jaw unhinged, his fangs were still stained with blood from when he transformed.

There was no humanity left in those eyes.

“Christopher,” you called, throat tensing and eyes burning with fresh tears. “Christopher, please.”

He stalked closer, massive body hunched low to the ground. You could see Leon’s fresh blood dripping off of his claws, see his thick saliva dripping from the minute gaps between his fangs. His muzzle wrinkled as a vicious snarl lingered in his throat.

Is this what it’s like knowing you’re going to die? You felt your body be blanketed in waves of dizziness and warmth. Was it your mind preparing you for death? Or were you just out of adrenaline and almost out of blood? Whatever it was, you were greeted with mental images from your past with him.

“Christopher, I know you’re in there-”

An image of you and Chris soaked to the bone kissing on your front porch flashed in front of your mind.

“Please- I- I know you can hear me,” you pleaded pathetically as you did your best not to fall on your ass.

One of you and Chris at some fancy BSAA celebration dancing under the stars. Neither of you wanted to go, but Chris was getting some award. You only convinced him to dress up in a suit with a few choice words that really perked him up.

You were nearing the cabin again, you didn’t dare take your eyes off of him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry Chris,” you were bawling your eyes out at this point.

You remember taking coverage until a flower shop’s canopy in a thunderstorm after your anniversary plans all fell through when Chris got down on one knee. You both couldn’t stop laughing as he proposed to you.

He snapped his jaws and reared up on his hind legs, claws flexing as he readied himself to lunge at you.

“I can’t- I can’t kill you- I’m so sorry-”

‘Do you take (Y/n) (L/n) to be your wife? In life and in death?’

‘I do.’

The gun was nearly slipping from your trembling fingers as your boot’s heel hit the stairs.

‘Do you take Christopher Redfield to your husband? In life and in death?’

‘I do.’

The radio you had stash in your pocket long ago sprung to life with a clear signal for fucking once. No crackling, no cutting in and out, just clear radio waves.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n), do you copy?” Rolando called out from your pocket.

“Don’t come here,” you choked out as you stood your ground with Chris still advancing.

“We found Agent Kennedy. We’re converging on your location-”

“No!” you cut him off. “Don’t. Just take Leon and get the hell out of here.”

“(Y/n)-” You made your fatal mistake when you reached into your pocket to silence the radio.

Chris lunged finally, the two of you being thrown inside of the cabin’s living room and you landed with a sharp cry right on your back. Your wound throbbed and pulsed, your eyes screwing shut as you screamed in blistering agony. Chris’ gun scattered across the room when you landed, leaving you at the complete mercy of your beastial husband.

His rancid breath hit you like a truck, your eyes opening on their own accord as his claws dug into the floorboards on either side of your head. His jaws unhinged, head rearing back. You were prepared to die.

Or so you thought.

As he was about to clamp down on your throat, your hands found themselves latched on either jaw, struggling and pushing back, doing your absolute best to keep them wide open. You cried out and pleaded, screaming Chris’ name as he struggled against you. The way you were gripping them didn’t allow him to close his jaws without pulling away from you. He instead forced himself closer to you, your shoulders straining under the pressure until you felt your right shoulder completely pop out of its socket.

With the slack you gave him unintentionally, Chris’ fangs grew closer to your throat as you twisted your head to the side. You were babbling at this point, pushed to the brink of exhaustion and death and still fighting, crying out for Chris and pleading for your life that was stuck between his nasty hands.

You felt his fangs ghost over your throat when a sudden burst of firing came from behind Chris, the werewolf tearing itself away from you to rear around and snarl at whoever just attacked him. As he turned, you could see what looked like darts sticking out of Chris’ expansive furry back, already emptied of their contents. Through the gap between his legs you could see a whole crew of flashlights blinding you both.

Chris lunged at the group as it parted like the sea, four of them turning around to face the beast while two ran inside to aid you. The flashlights dialed down the brightness to allow you to see Tundra hovering over you, already tearing open a medkit right next to your body while the other revealed Leon. He was holding his bloodied shoulder and breathing heavily, kneeling beside you and squeezing your non-dislocated shoulder. You could barely hear what was going on outside, focusing more on the two hovering above you as you slowly felt your fading. Seeing you starting to nod off, Leon jostled you much to your wellbeing.

“You need to stay away, (Y/n), you’re not out of the woods yet,” he warned you sternly.

Leon’s never taken this tone with you. You two were probably the closest a pair of partners could be in the DSO, so hearing Leon speak to you like this really struck you.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” Emily piped up as she readied a med injector. “Hold her down.”

You didn’t feel Leon bracing your shoulders to the floor, you didn’t feel the cold metal brace nearby your wound, you only felt yourself start to fall into darkness. You couldn’t really hear or feel much, only able to keep your eyes open long enough to see both Emily and Leon hovering over you, shaking you and trying to keep you awake before you drifted off into the misty veil of nothingness.

You didn’t think you’d find the smell of bleach and medicine so comforting, but here you were. You sat on the edge of one of the beds in the BSAA’s med bay, legs dangling off as you watched the iv bag drip saline and meds straight into your line. Your whole body was sluggish and heavy as though your bones were made of lead, especially your left arm that was stuck in a sling for the time being to give your shoulder a break. You rubbed at the sore thing, groaning softly when an audible pop erupted when you moved the joint. You needed to stop messing with it or you’re really gonna do some damage if wrestling with multiple werewolves last night wasn’t enough. You were rudely reminded of that when you had tried to sit up earlier, the throbbing of your impalement wound was evidence enough. You looked over the various things on the wall and to your bedside table where you spied a get well card amongst various other little things; Your phone, your wallet, and both yours and Chris’ wedding bands.

A sudden knock against the wall brought you out of your trance.

“Come in,” you call out, straightening your back out and shuffling backwards on the bed a bit more.

The door slowly opened to reveal your husband much to your shock. He looked as though he had been dragged through hell and survived. He was pale, he had dark circles around his eyes, his arms were covered in gauze bandages from all of the blood the BSAA took from him. He looked so exhausted, but the second his eyes landed on you he softened.

“How are you doing?” he questioned you softly as he closed the door behind him.

He stood there instead of coming to sit next to you. He was stiff, closed off, hunched in on himself like he was trying to make himself look smaller. He was ashamed, something Chris doesn’t show a lot. He avoided direct eye contact with you, his gaze falling between your shoulder sling or the various cuts and bruises you had littering your skin.

“I’m gonna be sore for a while.”

“Your back?”

“They’re saying a few months. Nothing vital was impaled.” He still refused to look at you. He looked like he was about to vomit. “Chris-”

“You should’ve left me there,” he cut you off. He suddenly made eye contact with you. “You should’ve just come back for me in the morning.”

“I wasn’t gonna leave you, Chris, you’re my husband.”

“I attacked you,” he approached you, hands shaking and eyes wide as he took labored breaths. “(Y/n), I could’ve killed you. I almost fucking did! I almost killed Leon, too-” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck like he always does when he gets nervous. “You should’ve just killed me.”

Hearing him say that felt like you got impaled again.

“Chris, I couldn’t kill you. I couldn’t pull the trigger on you.”

Chris started to pace nervously in your room.

“I don’t know what they’re going to do with me.”

“The BSAA?”

“They’re all in a big meeting about it, about what they’re going to do with me- And Leon.” You eyed the door at the mention of your partner’s name. Was he also turned by Chris scratching him? You’ve only ever heard of people being turned by bites, but that was just in the movies. “Sure, I’m human now, but what if I don’t turn back the next time?”

“Come here,” you ordered sternly. Chris reared around utterly shocked at your sudden change in attitude. You pat the empty space next to you, urging him to sit down with you which he complied. You took his hand with your free one and gave it a good squeeze while you looked him in the eye. “I’m not gonna let them do anything to you.”

“Angel-”

“I don’t care if I have to lock you in a shed in the middle of nowhere and toss you steaks to keep you fed- I’m not letting them take you from me.” You reached towards the nightstand sitting dutifully by your bedside, letting go of Chris’ hand for a second as you slipped something small and cold from the tabletop. To Chris’ surprise, you had slipped his wedding band back onto his finger, the gold shining softly in the room. “You’re my husband. I’m not gonna let them take you away.”

Chris leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to the side of your forehead, his hand squeezing your own while tears pricked at both of your eyes.

“I’m a werewolf,” Chris scoffed as he admitted it out loud.

“How’s Hound Wolf taking it?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen any of them yet. I came right to you when they finally let me go. I haven’t seen Leon, either.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept on your face at the mention of your partner. You leaned your head on Chris’ bulky shoulder as he wrapped his arm around the small of your back while being careful of your bandaged wound.

“You know Leon’s gonna double down on the dog jokes now, right? First you being ‘Alpha’ in a group called ‘Hound Wolf.’ And now you’re a big hairy werewolf?”

“Let him. I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine if he’s one too.”

#chris redfield x reader #THIS WAS SO FUCKING GOOD

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